


There's No Where Left to Go

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ichigo-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never has the mountain before him looked so impossibly high.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Where Left to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Leaning into my feels about episodes 161-162. All recognizable dialogue is lifted from the episodes in question. Once again, I am stealing titles from Silversun Pickups songs.

~~~~

There is a snap in Ichigo’s mind and she’s gone. His feet stop of their own accord, sandals scuffing against the concrete floor. Nel wriggles between his body and his arm, but Ichigo can’t feel it. He is suddenly, entirely, numb. He reaches out for Rukia, strains the limits of his perception to find any trace of her  _ reiatsu _ . There is nothing. Rukia is gone.

He barely has time to process (to deny because there is no other option; Rukia Kuchiki  _ cannot _ be dead, it is a fundamental law of the universe), before an Arrancar appears in a flash of  _ sonido _ .

“So you’ve noticed,” the Arrancar drawls. “And here I thought you were just a kid who possessed only brute strength. Quite frankly, I’m amazed that you have some decent abilities.”

Ichigo turns at the voice, looking up the flight of stairs. “I know you.” And he does, now that he thinks about it. He remembers this one. Remembers the oil slick drag of his spiritual pressure, remembers the emptiness behind the Arrancar’s eyes.

“It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it Soul Reaper?”

Under Ichigo’s arm, Nel makes a noise of distress. He glances down briefly. Nel, while always pale, is ghostly white and she’s staring at the Arrancar like she’s seeing her doom. Ichigo squeezes her closer to his body, feels the warmth of her through his robes. He’s got to be smart about this, he has Nel to think of. The Arrancar descends the staircase.

“I know you,” Ichigo says again, and names him. The Arrancar, Ulquiorra, blinks in surprise, but it is hastily masked.

“How interesting that you know my name.” Ulquiorra continues down the staircase, not looking at all interested. “At any rate, Rukia Kuchiki is dead.”

Ichigo feels the words go through him like a sword through the gut. He instinctively reaches out to find Rukia’s  _ reiatsu _ again, and comes up empty. Again. Ichigo’s stomach bottoms out somewhere around his knees. Rukia can’t be…. Ichigo can’t even think the word. 

_ Let me out, I can kill him. I can tear him limb from limb and destroy him. He will never, ever hurt us again _ . The Hollow gnashes his teeth and Ichigo feels something dark skitter up his spine. Ichigo grits his teeth and fights for control.  _ What are you so afraid of King?  _ The Hollow asks, voice sibilant in Ichigo’s ears.

“More accurately,” Ulquiorra goes on conversationally, “she and Espada number nine killed each other. Her entire body was covered in wounds and she was run through by a trident. She couldn’t have survived.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that!” Ichigo retorts, “you weren’t fighting her, there’s no way you’d know –”

“Synchronized awareness.” Ulquiorra interrupts, looking increasingly bored at the prospect of having to explain himself. “One of Espada number nine’s talents. In the exact instant that he first engages in battle, he can convey information about his enemies to his comrades.”

While Ulquiorra talks, Ichigo thinks about his options. He’s got to get to Rukia, got to see it (whatever it is, he refuses to name it) for himself. If he has to go through Ulquiorra to get to Rukia, then so help him. He starts walking away.

“Where are you going?” Ulquiorra asks when Ichigo turns away from him to leave.

“I’m going to save Rukia.”

“I told you, she’s dead.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The Arrancar pushes and prods and goads until all Ichigo can feel is the conflagration of rage at his core. He draws his sword, throwing himself at Ulquiorra, heedless of Nel’s cry at being dropped unceremoniously to the floor. The Arrancar stops Ichigo’s blade bare-handed. Reiatsu crackles in the air around them.

_ Come on, come on, come on, _ the Hollow whines,  _ let me at him. _

“Nel,” Ichigo says, when they break apart. “Make sure you stay back.” She protests, but Ichigo ignores her.

Ichigo lifts  _ Zangetsu _ and levels it at Ulquiorra. He eases the tight grip he’s been keeping on his  _ reiatsu _ . He revels in the rush of his power through his blood; the way it fizzes and sparks and sings through his veins. He’s been practising keeping it in check, because it helps him move undetected and because it helps keep the Hollow at bay until he needs it. He needs it now; he’s got to throw everything he has at Ulquiorra, because he has got to get to Rukia. He grips  _ Zangetsu _ firmly, and inhales, centering himself within his mind. 

“ _ Bankai _ !’

The Hollow surfaces with gleeful bloodlust and Ichigo draws on it and the rage that burns through him to feed into the  _ getsuga tensho _ . The release feels like savage retribution and even as the mask shatters at his feet, Ichigo feels the bitter taste of triumph on the back of his tongue. He felt the  _ getsuga _ hit the mark, felt the instant the crackling red-black lightning overwhelmed Ulquiorra’s defenses.

His moment of triumph is short-lived. He is barely standing, leaning heavily on  _ Zangetsu _ . Drawing on the Hollow for the second time in as many hours and staying in  _ bankai _ is literally tearing him to pieces. Ichigo’s mind is a whirl; thoughts skittering away from any acknowledgement of Rukia’s... _ disappearance _ . He can’t focus, can’t rein in the end over end tumble of his thoughts, and so he doesn’t notice until it’s too late that Ulquiorra is still standing.

The  _ cero _ is unavoidable. Ichigo barely has time to scoop Nel up and drag the mask down his face before it hits. At this range, it should have incinerated them both, but Ichigo can feel the Hollow working under his skin, keeping him from being fried. He curls his body around Nel, shielding her from the blast and steps into  _ shunpo _ . His heart is pounding in his chest, breath heaving in his lungs and there’s a roaring in his ears that has nothing to do with the rush of the wind. The mask shatters before he even comes out of the  _ shunpo _ , and when tries to pull it back down, the power evaporates in his hands.

Ichigo is in trouble. He has nothing left and holding the tattered edges of his  _ bankai _ around him is almost more than he can manage. He can feel the threads of his power slipping through his fingers. He’s still hanging on to Nel; she’s limp in his arm. His heart stutters, and he reaches for her spiritual pressure. It’s there, barely. Still alive, thank the gods.

Ulquiorra’s kick is brutal and it sends Ichigo flying. He feels his back hit something solid and Nel flies out of his grip.

Ichigo comes to beneath a slab of concrete. He draws on reserves of strength he didn’t know he had to shove it off himself and get to his knees. He can barely get his hands to close around the hilt of  _ Zangetsu _ but it doesn’t stop him from trying. He gets the blade up in time to stop Ulquiorra’s advance.

Ichigo’s awareness of his situation phases in and out as he struggles to breathe. His whole body trembles with the effort of keeping the blade of his sword raised. He can do no more than that. The blade rests harmlessly against the Arrancar’s robe. He spares half a thought for Nel, but cannot afford to lose what little focus he has. He hears about half of what Ulquiorra is saying, but everything crystallises when Ulquiorra grabs  _ Zangetsu _ . It feels  _ wrong _ , and the oily drag of Ulquiorra’s reiatsu pulses against the edges of Ichigo’s own.

The Arrancar uses his grip on Ichigo’s sword to shred his own coat, revealing the four tattooed on his chest. Ichigo’s heart skips a beat. “You’re – the fourth.” Ichigo drops his arm. Ulquiorra is not the leader of the Arrancar, there are three more of them ahead of him that Ichigo will have to defeat to get to Aizen. Never has the mountain before him looked so impossibly high.

Ichigo shudders out a breath and then Ulquiorra’s hand parts the flesh of his chest and sinks in between his ribs. There’s no room for anything but the pain then. It is exquisite. It consumes him. He doesn’t feel Ulquiorra pull his hand back out, doesn’t feel when his last tenuous hold on his  _ bankai _ fades and he doesn’t hear Ulquiorra’s judgement of his character. All Ichigo can feel is the searing emptiness of the hole in his chest, a physical representation of what has been burning there since the moment Rukia’s  _ reiatsu _ disappeared from his awareness. The last thing he hears is her voice, echoing through his mind.

_ “You fool.” _


End file.
